Taminy Read Online Free

Meredydd.” The
twin currants disappeared for a moment in a wrinkling of doughy flesh. They
glistened a bit more when they appeared again. Tynedale cleared his throat. “Yes,
well, the point is this—she hasn’t Meredydd’s talent. She’s a vague child,
unfocused.”
    “Ah,
and Meredydd, if I recall, was self-absorbed, glib and stubborn.”
    Tynedale
reddened again. “She was all those things. But she was also immensely gifted.”
    “I
wish Ealad-hach had been as charitable in his assessment of her. She might not
have suffered so much.”
    “Ealad-hach
recognized her talent,” said Tynedale, gathering up his texts. “His Tradist
indoctrination simply refused to allow him to accept it. I find nothing wrong
with educating cailin of outstanding ability. But as long as Ealad and his
brother Tradists, view it as tantamount to heresy, we must not encourage it.”
He paused in his gathering and snorted delicately. “Whatever must he think the
God is about—to give a girl child so much ability and expect her not to use it?
Whatever would the purpose be?”
    Bevol
pursed his lips. “Oh, to teach her humility, no doubt.”
    “Meredydd-a-Lagan
did not need to learn humility. She needed to learn self-acceptance. I pray she
did not perish afore time.”
    “She
didn’t perish at all, so you needn’t worry on that account.”
    Tynedale
eyed his fellow Osraed uneasily and grappled his books. “Must go,” he murmured.
“Have a seminar ’cross court.”
    He
waddled energetically from the room, leaving Bevol to chuckle in his wake.
    oOo
    Gwynet
lay sprawled upon the braid carpet before the fire she had built for her Master’s
homecoming. Before her, between supporting elbows, and triangulated with her
nose, was a crystal.
    It
was a blue crystal. She liked those best because they reminded her of water and
evening skies ... and her own eyes. With the firelight playing so, each facet
formed a tiny world in which it was always just sunset. She liked this crystal
especially well because Taminy had given it to her, saying it was a very pure
crystal—a good crystal for Runeweaving.
    Gwynet
grimaced, squinting her eyes against the blaze of a multitude of roseate
sunsets. But what made it good? Its facets seemed no smoother or glossier than
any other crystal she’d pored over in the last week or so. It was no bigger, no
sharper of corner, no clearer than any of those crystals. It was not as
grand-looking as the one Aelder Prentice Aelbort had used in her Weavecraft
class that afternoon. It was arguably truer of color.
    She
stared at the symmetrical little cluster of worlds until her eyes blurred them
into a wheeling montage of azure and gold. Fire in the sky. Bright, clear fire;
growing hot and sweet and pure; pouring out of the sky in a river-
    “Oh!”
Gwynet scrambled to her knees as the flames from the hearth licked out and over
the gleaming fender like a hot tongue and poised, tip drooling, as if to taste
the azure stone. In a gasp, it had flicked back again, shedding sparks across
the carpet while Gwynet scrambled forth again to pat at them.
    She
had assured herself that all were cold and sat back with a shudder and a sigh
when she heard a soft chuckle behind her.
    She
jumped and spun. “Oh, Taminy! I’d such a start. Did you see?” Her hand trembled
toward the homey fire, docile again within its grate.
    “Aye.”
The older girl faded from the shadows, her long, flaxen hair catching fire
sprites and weaving them through its length.
    “What
was it, please?” the child begged. “Say, mistress, were’t demons?”
    Taminy’s
laughter lay pleasantly against Gwynet’s ears despite the fright she’d had, for
the older girl was usually so muted and wistful.
    “Demons?
Of course not, Gwynet. It was you.”
    “Me?
How? I’ve ne’er called fire up like tha’. I swear it.”
    Taminy
came to stand on the hearth rug and reached down to pick up the blue crystal. “You’ve
never used a rune crystal before, have